The Founders Four
by clairebearbun
Summary: The four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were known as the greatest witches and wizards of all time. The names Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin are very popular indeed - but few know the real story behind all the fame and glory. This is a tale of how the founders came to be.
1. Chapter 1

The four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were known as the greatest witches and wizards of all time. The names Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin are very widespread; there isn't a single witch or wizard that has not heard of the Founders' legendary works.

Although they have indeed made their mark on the Wizarding World, many are deluded into believing that the journey made by these four figures was an easy one. This, of course, is a lie, for the path the Founders took was not all rainbows and sunshine. It was a darker, thorn-riddled road with unexpected twists and turns; it was a dangerous path, one that would require great acts of bravery, steadfastness, intelligence, and guileful thinking.

Luckily, the four friends had just that.

Many people of the Wizarding community have idolized the Founders Four, but in doing so, they have failed to realize that these historical figures were once no different than you and I. They all faced struggles, challenges, and learned to overcome difficulties not by using magic, but by helping one another.

This is a tale of how the Founders came to be.

 _Wales, Great Britain, 10_ _th_ _century_

The lonely cottage stood on the narrow dip of the valley. It was surrounded by lovely scenery – patches of vivid green grass woven into the ground and a thin tree with its slender arms reaching out to caress the roof – but the house itself was far from pretty. The windows were dented, the wooden door covered with aging moss, and the old pavement, winding away from the door, caked with mud.

A nine-year old girl by the name of Helga Hufflepuff sat slumped against the rusty chair on the front porch. Her eyes, normally a clear blue, were now clouded with tears that stained her cheeks.

It was truly a rare sight to see someone as cheerful as Helga look so defeated, but here she was, crying her face off rather loudly as she tried to wipe her tears away. The sleeve of her poor dress was wet, but little Helga didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter to her anymore, so she continued to weep.

As she dwelled in her misery, Helga couldn't help but think back to the disastrous event that occurred earlier. Her mind started to drift into the memories of the past.

 _"_ _She's cursed, I tell you!" her father raged, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Helga and her mother were huddled next to it, both of them wishfully hoping for his anger to die down. Sadly, Helga's father was far from finished._

 _"_ _I knew there was something wrong with her since the minute she was born! The girl's been nothing but trouble. First the broken car, now this! I swear, if we don't do something about her, I'm going to leave! I'm so sick and tired of hearing the same excuse. 'Oh! I didn't mean to do it! I don't even know what happened!' She's lying, and she knows it. I will not tolerate such atrocious behavior in my house!"_

 _The voice used by Helga's father was one that she knew far too well. It was the voice of someone who was bitter, resentful, and above all, filled with strong animosity for his daughter._

 _However, despite being frightened by her father's hostile tone, Helga also felt another emotion that was different from her fear._

 _That other emotion was something that was along the edges of dislike, for as much as Helga wanted to be tolerant and accepting of other's opinions, she did not like how her father referred to her as cursed._

 _She also didn't like how her father claimed that she had been nothing but trouble, for as far as Helga could remember, she had always been helpful and kind. Did kindness cause trouble? Helga didn't think so._

 _At that very moment, Helga Hufflepuff decided that she had had enough. She reached into the pocket of her patched dress and pulled out a thin object that resembled a stick. Her tiny fingers were clutched tightly to the wand as if her life depended on it. She did not let go._

 _Meanwhile, her bitter father continued to shout._

 _"_ _This girl should not be allowed in our household anymore! She has done far too much damage and we simply cannot allow such-"_

 _His voice faltered as his eyes drifted to the stick that Helga was now pointing directly at him. His face paled, all traces of color gone._

 _He knew very well what this stick could do, because he had seen it happen countless of times. He knew it could cause a lot of trouble, and trouble was the last thing he needed._

 _But rather than being afraid, however, his features contorted with fury and his eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than tiny slits._

 _"_ _How dare you," he spat with disgust, not taking his eyes off the stick, "point that thing at me as if-"_

 _But he never got to finish his sentence, because at that moment, Helga did something she would later regret. An uncontrollable anger started to build inside of her. Her hand shook as she raised the stick-like object directly level with her father's throat. Waves of rage washed over her as she felt a tingling sensation flow from her being and into the wand. She felt hatred she had never felt before, and then suddenly she could almost see it – the blinding anger that clouded her vision, turning everything red. Power surged through every vein in her body as it struggled to be let out._

 _And then all of her channeled fury was let loose from the object in her hand._

 _A flash of light,_

 _then the sickening thud of her father falling to the floor,_

 _then the agonizing sounds of her mother weeping,_

 _then the sound of small footsteps pounding into the ground,_

 _then the slam of the old wooden door as Helga tore out of the house._

Helga Hufflepuff continued to wipe away at her eyes, but the tears kept pouring relentlessly down her cheeks. She was a mess, and there was nothing she could do.

 _What have I done?_ _What have I done?_ Helga asked herself forlornly, as she choked back another sob. She looked down at the sleeve of her plain dress. It was soaking wet.

There was nothing she could do.

For five whole minutes, the girl stared down at the floor, motionless and silent, with the occasional splash of her tears hitting the ground.

 _What have I done?_

Helga continued to be still.

 _What have I done?_

All of a sudden, she straightened in her seat, almost robotically. She reached out an unsteady hand, and with great effort, managed to wrap her little fingers around her wand.

 _What have I done?_

The next thing she knew, her feet were hitting the muddy pavement, and she was walking towards the grassy valleys that stretched out over the horizon.

 _What have I done?_

The old pavement came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the cottage's picket fence. Stiffly, Helga reached out her left hand to push open the fence door. The brittle wooden door gave way almost immediately.

Without hesitation, Helga stepped out, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

 _What have I done?_

She walked away from the old cottage, tears still streaming down her cheeks, carrying nothing but her wand.

 _What have I done?_

She walked,

And walked,

And she did not turn back.


	2. Chapter 2-Encounter

To say that Rowena Ravenclaw was beautiful would be an understatement.

Everything about her radiated exquisiteness - from her piercing yet strangely alluring brown eyes to the dark waterfalls of hair that rippled whenever she turned.

She became perfection at the mere age of eleven, and was the pride of the Ravenclaw family. However, her good looks are not the only reason for earning her admiration from her parents, for you see, the Ravenclaw family also prided themselves on their intelligence. Every single wizard and witch born into the Ravenclaw family had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and Rowena Ravenclaw was no exception.

Being one of the most ancient pureblood families, the Ravenclaws were naturally a wealthy lot. They enjoyed the luxury of having their own land, manor, and house-elves to attend to their every need. Money was never a problem for the Ravenclaw household. To them, Galleons did grow on trees, and large ones at that.

However, as good it all may seem, being born a Ravenclaw does not guarantee you a problem-free life.

The current head of the Ravenclaw family was a beautiful witch named Rhea. She enjoyed doing many things, some of which include sewing, cooking, painting, and reading. Doing magic, however, was not something she did often. Rhea Ravenclaw was a talented witch, but recently, she found that it took quite a lot of effort to cast a simple charm or jinx.

Rhea blamed it on her daughter.

Rowena Ravenclaw was what mothers would label as a "trouble child". She was beautiful, intelligent, and clever, but she was also slightly rude, mischievous, and always seemed to be looking for problems.

 _Ravenclaw Manor, Scotland, Great Britain, 10_ _th_ _century_

"What the-"

Rowena's eyes flew straight towards the shelves lined with endless rows of books. She could've sworn she had seen something move.

Quietly, Rowena tip toed in between two of the bookcases. Nothing seemed to stir.

The young girl's eyes narrowed as she scanned the shelf in front of her. Dictionaries, encyclopedias, mind-boggling history novels – nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still, Rowena couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that insisted that there was _something_ here.

She searched, and searched until she finally saw it – a small golden object no larger than her fist, with a pair of silvery wings sprouting from its body. It flitted around the shelf restlessly.

Rowena's eyes lit up and she let out an excited squeal. She reached out her small hand and tried to grasp hold of the flying object; however, the tiny ball seemed to have a mind of its own. It zipped away quickly, weaving its way between the rows of books.

Rowena pouted, but instead of running to follow the golden ball, she took out her wand, aimed it expertly at the flying object, and shouted, " _Arresto Momentum!_ "

The ball started to lose speed, until it came to a stop at the end of the bookcase. Its wings fluttered weakly. Rowena ran towards the hovering object, snatched it out of the air, and then tore out of the library.

"Mom!" Rowena zoomed down the spiral staircase, golden ball in hand, screaming.

"Mom, look at what I found!" Her small feet pounded on the stone floor rather loudly as she ran down the dimly lit corridor that led to her mother's sleeping quarters.

She stopped to catch her breath, and then knocked impatiently on the stone door.

There was no reply.

After a few seconds of silence, Rowena decided that she couldn't wait any longer. With strength unbeknownst to an ordinary eleven-year-old, the young Ravenclaw pushed open the entryway.

Her mother lay in bed, reading a book. With a weary expression on her face, she looked up to see Rowena, who was breathing heavily.

"Mom, look-"Rowena began eagerly, but her mother cut her off.

"Rowena," She began tiredly, as if they had had this conversation countless times before, "You needn't inform me of every little thing that happens in your life. Please leave me be."

"But, Mom…!" Rowena wailed, disappointed that her mother didn't want to see the object that was fluttering restlessly in her hand.

"Rowena, please go. You should go to bed. It's getting late."

After giving the stone door a good slam, Rowena reluctantly sulked out of her mother's room.

She opened the palm of her hand containing the golden object and began examining it. It didn't look very special, but Rowena still felt drawn to it. She turned it over, and looked closely at the delicate wings that beat helplessly against the clutches of her fingers. Again, nothing special, but Rowena didn't want to let it go.

She carefully tucked the object inside a concealed pocket in her dress.

Suddenly, Rowena heard a loud CLANG, followed by the metallic ding of a bell chiming.

 _Ding, Ding_

The piercing ringing echoed throughout the entire manor.

Rowena knew this could only mean one thing – a visitor.

 _But who would come here so late at night?_ She wondered aloud as she scurried down the dark hallway that led to the entrance hall. Curiosity had gotten the better of her.

She skidded to a stop in front of the double oak door that led to the outside of the manor.

Oh, how Rowena longed to go outside, to explore the world! Excitement flooded inside her as she, with great effort, opened the double doors. They swung open.

Cautiously, Rowena stuck her tiny head outside.

"Is anyone there?" She asked, nervousness creeping into her voice.

There was no response. Rowena looked around in the darkness, and then saw the startling silhouette of a young girl in front of her.

Before she could react however, the little girl pulled out something that looked a lot like a-

 _Is that a wand?_ Rowena wanted to ask, but the answer came in the form of sparks flying from the object in the girl's hand.

Rowena dodged, and the crackling sparks whizzed past her. As if she had done this many times before, the girl, now clearly visible, pointed the wand at Rowena, and then spoke:

"F-Food…" The young girl's voice was very high-pitched and Rowena would have laughed if not for the wand that was pointed directly at her.

"G-G-Give m-me food or else…!" The girl repeated in the same squeaky voice.

Rowena managed to get a good look at her. The girl looked very young, even younger than Rowena, and it seemed as though she'd just been whirled into a tornado, but somehow came back out, alive. Her hair, a light shade of auburn, was messily strewn across her face. Strands of wild hair covered much of her forehead. Dark circles surrounded her azure eyes, giving her an eerie look.

The poor girl, like Rowena, also happened to be wearing a dress, if you could call it that. However, unlike Rowena's silk embroidered gown, it looked like poorly-sewn patches of fabric put together without a second thought.

To Rowena, the girl didn't look like much.

"What will you do to me if I don't give you food?" Rowena asked, slightly amused, her nervousness fading away.

"I-I c-can h-hurt y-you…!" The auburn-haired girl sputtered, trying to point her wand threateningly at Rowena, but failing.

Young Rowena raised an eyebrow.

"I h-have s-something s-special that n-nobody else h-has!"

As if to prove her point, the tip of her wand shone a faint scarlet.

 _Something special...that nobody else has…?_

Rowena looked confused for a moment, and then realization dawned on her.

The tiny girl with the high-pitched voice was not aware of the existence of witches and wizards; she didn't know that there were others like her.

"Well..." Rowena said calmly, pulling out her own wand and aiming it directly at the girl, "I'm not so sure about that."

For a whole minute, the two girls stared at each other, wands raised. Neither of them said a word until the one with the patch dress broke the silence.

She looked as if she'd just been petrified.

"Y-You c-can also….?" She trailed off, lowering her wand unknowingly.

Rowena nodded slowly.

"B-but I thought I w-was the only one!"

A moment of silence passed before Rowena spoke, this time in the firmest voice she could muster.

"No, you're not."

Rowena then gestured for the girl to come into the entrance hall, but there was hesitation in her hazy blue eyes.

"Do you want food or no?"

At the mention of food, her delicate features lit up at once, and she stepped eagerly inside. All traces of uncertainty were gone from her face.

"Alright, then. Follow me."

Rowena ambled away, and the other girl followed close behind, unaware of the mud trail she had left in her wake.

When they reached the kitchen, the auburn-haired witch immediately sat down, exhausted. The older girl waved her wand, muttered something that sounded like gibberish, and a dish appeared out of thin air before the young girl's eyes.

"Hope you like leftovers from dinner. Mom doesn't eat too much nowadays."

The young witch stared intently at the contents on the plate for a moment. Then, she began eating, and in a matter of minutes, there was not a crumb left on the platter.

Rowena's mouth hung open. _How does one eat so fast?_

Still stunned, she gave her wand a swish and a flick and the plate drifted over to the sink, where it began cleaning itself.

"So, um, what's your name?" Rowena asked awkwardly, putting her wand away as the girl wiped her small mouth with the sleeve of her dress.

"Helga. Helga Hufflepuff." She responded in her unusually high voice, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The way the girl said it, in her squealy voice, the name "Hufflepuff", Rowena just couldn't help but smile.

And then the smile escalated into something else.

It started off as barely suppressed giggles, and then turned into uproarious laughter. The young dark-haired witch doubled up with laughter until her face was in tears.

The young Hufflepuff didn't like it one bit.

"Hey!" Helga protested, "Don't laugh at my name!"

Rowena immediately sobered up, and then muttered a quick apology.

"Sorry about that, I was just a bit-"

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to shift, and then Rhea Ravenclaw materialized before the two girls, wand in hand. Her tall figure towered over Rowena, her mouth a firm, hard line.

Rowena's mother was not happy.

"Young lady," She snapped, "Why are you out of bed at this-"

Rhea stopped when she noticed young Helga standing behind her. Her demeanor changed completely.

"Oh, we've got guests!" Rowena's mother exclaimed, immediately putting her wand away,

"What a lovely young girl! My name is Ravenclaw. Rhea Ravenclaw. And you are…?" Rhea had a plastered smile on her pale face, ignoring a confused Rowena behind her.

Helga, however, politely smiled back.

"My name is Hufflepuff," she answered sweetly, "Helga Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff?" Rhea pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in thought. "Hmm….well, truth be told, I've never met any members of the Hufflepuff family before…but I'm sure they're all wonderful, wonderful witches and wizards!" She quickly added, not wanting the young girl to be upset.

Helga, however, looked a bit uncomfortable. She shifted in her chair.

"Oh, they're not um, well, you see, they're not exactly…" Helga trailed off. She couldn't find the right words. Luckily, Rowena came to her rescue.

"Mother, what Helga means is that her parents are Muggle-born."

"Muggle-born?" Rhea frowned, and studied Helga carefully. Then, in a much quieter voice, she said: "Oh dear me, I'm terribly sorry, but never mind that! It _is_ getting late, however. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. Can you tell us the address of your home so that we can escort you back to your parents? I don't think someone as young as yourself would know how to Apparate, but we can arrange a port key for you, if that's what you'd prefer. "

At the mention of her parents, Helga's face tightened.

"I'm not going back there." She said stiffly.

Rhea tilted her head.

"Why not? Is there something wrong?"

Helga did not reply. Her dainty features hardened and she sat motionless like a rock. Then, her face crumpled and she began to cry.

Rowena's mother stared at Helga for a moment, and a sort of understanding seemed to pass between the two of them.

Rhea reached over and pulled Helga into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know. But it's going to be alright." she said soothingly. "Trust me."

"But I don't know where to go!" Helga hiccupped as she tried to blink back tears.

"I've been lots of places, but nobody wants-" Rhea shushed her.

"It's alright,"

Rowena's mother paused to release her tight embrace on Helga and then bent down until her grey eyes were level with that of Hufflepuff's. In a gentle yet firm voice, she finished:

"because from this day on, you'll be staying with us."

Rowena's jaw dropped.

To be continued!


End file.
